“They tell me, señor, that you were about to take as bride a lovely lady?”
Perez frowned in perplexity. Evidently this was the last subject he had expected to hear touched upon.
“Perhaps so,” he said at last, “but if this is a question of ransom we will not trouble the lady. I will arrange your figures for that.”
“This is not a matter of figures, Señor Perez. It is a marriage we are interested in, and it is all well arranged for you. The padre here will draw up the contract of marriage in the old form; it is better than the manner of today. You will give him your name, the names of your parents, the name of your parish and abode.”
“I will see you damned first!”
“And, Padre,” continued Rotil, giving no heed to that heartfelt remark, “use less than one-third of the page, for there must be space for the record of the bride, and below that the contract between the happy two with all witnesses added.”
“If you think––” began Perez furiously.
“I do not think; I know, señor! Later you also will know,” Rotil promised with grim certainty. “This marriage is of interest to me, and has been too long delayed. It is now for you to say if you will be a bridegroom in chains, or if it please you to have the irons off.”
“This cannot be! I tell you a marriage is not legal if–––”
“Oh, señor! Your experience is less than I thought,” interrupted Rotil, “and you are much mistaken,––much! We are all witnesses here. Señor Rhodes will be pleased to unfasten those heavy chains to oblige the lady. The chains might not be a pleasant memory to her. Women have curious prejudices about such things! But it must be understood that you stand quiet for the ceremony. If not, this gun of mine will manage it that you stay quiet forever.”